


we'll go down this til' it turns from color to black & white

by jaekyu



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Depression, Drug Use, M/M, Road Trips, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekyu/pseuds/jaekyu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jongin pushes himself into yixing's life sort of unexpectedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we'll go down this til' it turns from color to black & white

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for depression, mentions of suicidal thoughts and recreational drug use. wrote this back in 2013.

i've got a plan, i've got an atlas in my hands  
i'm gonna turn when i listen to the lessons i've learned

(ATLAS HANDS, benjamin francis leftwhich).

 

 

  

it is sometime in the early winter that yixing starts to feel like his insides are being hollowed out. he can't tell you if this process was gradual or if it hit like a punch to the gut, he can't give you a moment, an hour or a day. the weather is the only thing he remembers. he supposes when your own life seems mundane and foolish to you you become hyper aware of everything else.

snow had fallen twice. both times the rain had washed it away and left nothing behind but a thick moistness in the air, the kind that settled deep in your bones and weighed you down. the sky was the same grey as the sidewalk yixing would follow one foot in front of the other to get to class and back.

in early december, yixing's mother calls him from home. "your father and i," she says, "are willing to pay for your ticket home."

when yixing says nothing in reply she says "for the holidays", like he's forgotten.

he hasn't.

two weeks later, yixing calls his mother back at an hour when he knows she'll be asleep. he tells her _thank you for the offer_ , tells her _thank you_ but he _won't be able to make it home_ for the holidays this year.

(he spends them curled in his bed with the window open, the sounds of the street floating up and through it, same as the snow, blowing into the room and across the floor every so often.)

 

 

 

march is when he finally quits school.

("yixing, your grades," says a message on his phone from his mother in february, "is something wrong? please ca-"

he hits delete.)

he spends an unmeasurable amount of days waking up in the late afternoon, eating away at the money he has saved up to order take-out and buy two or three cups of coffee a day from the starbucks down the street. he tries to take photos of the way the umbrellas of the people who walk underneath his window slope and drip spring rain, of how the dust particles look reflected by the sun while he sits on his bed and tries to read. the film always ends up over exposed or out of focus.

he stares at the ruined photos, the wasted film, and he thinks of all the things he gave up to come here and how he wasted all that too.

  

 

 

jongin pushes himself into yixing's life sort of unexpectedly.

yixing's arms are filled with plastic bags of groceries - microwavable meals, mostly, and instant coffee because he can't be spending so much money on starbucks anymore and -

"are you alright?" a voice says.

yixing's head jerks up, mouth frowning. there is a boy standing in front of him, head tilted to the side as he looks yixing up and down a few times.

"yes, i'm -" yixing shakes his head, shifting the plastic bags in his arms. "why do you ask?"

the boy looks surprised at yixing's reaction. "i was just asking, i mean - my name is jongin and you have - you've got a lot of things to carry there and you look a little frustrated and -"

yixing cuts him off, "i'm fine. thank you. jongin." and the boy's mouth shuts with the click of his teeth. yixing shifts his body, then, just slightly so it's not facing jongin but the window of the subway, so he can watch the scenery of the city rush by and stop feeling sick to his stomach because jongin is the first person who has spoken to him in months.

yixing doesn't notice when jongin gets off the train, exactly, but when yixing turns back around to make his way off himself, jongin is already gone.

  

 

 

("why did you talk to me that day on the subway?" yixing will ask jongin, on a day very far away from this one.

"you looked impossibly sad.")

 

 

 

his mother calls again in june. yixing hits ignore and almost throws his phone against the wall.

instead, he pulls on his favourite shoes and catches a cab to the bar about eight blocks down from his apartment.

it's only tuesday, so it's relatively vacant. a few business men peppered here and there, loosened ties around their necks and hands tight around their glasses. couples out for dates looking bored.

and -

"i never got your name."

jongin. the boy from the subway.

he slides up beside yixing at the bar, taking the seat directly next to him.

"huh?" yixing asks, having been lost in his own head. "oh um, yixing. my name is yixing."

"nice to meet you." jongin smiles.

 

  

 

jongin ends up buying him four drinks and yixing, emotionally exhausted and buzzing under his own skin, inside his own veins, tries to kiss him sometime around midnight, missing and pressing his lips to the corner of jongin’s mouth. jongin laughs but he doesn't pull away, choosing instead to curl his hand around the back yixing's neck and pull him into a proper kiss.

when they pull back yixing is breathing hard and he's embarrassed when jongin isn't doing the same, trying to quiet the harsh sounds he's making while trying to pull the air in and out of his lungs at normal speed.

"do you - want to get out of here?" jongin asks, biting his lip. "my apartment is just down the street."

before yixing can think better of it he nods, face hot and hands itching to touch jongin.

they walk back to jongin's slowly, the time it should take to get there doubled because jongin keeps pushing yixing against brick walls and lamp posts to kiss him until yixing’s jaw starts to ache, bite at his lips until they bleed.

when they finally reach jongin's apartment, yixing notices that jongin left it without locking the door and yixing wants to say something about how that isn't safe, that this isn't a very good neighbourhood, ask jongin if he's ever been robbed but jongin makes him loose all his words that would probably only embarrass yixing anyway by pressing him against the closed door as soon as they are inside. jongin drops to his knees, pushing up yixing's t-shirt and mouthing at the skin he exposes just above the elastic of his boxers.

"shit," yixing mutters, head hitting the hard wood of the door when jongin reaches a hand up to palm his dick through his jeans. "fuck, jongin."

jongin unbuckles his belt fast and pulls yixing still soft dick out of his pants. he gives it a few experimental strokes,, making yixing shut his eyes tight and grit his teeth, and then mouths at the length of it, hot and wet. yixing buries his hand in jongin's hair and wills himself to get harder, _now is not the time for whiskey dick_. jongin is persistent, though, and takes yixing into his mouth, tongue circling the head and then swallowing him down whole.

"fuck," yixing scrubs a hand over his face when it's clear he's not going to get a hard-on and gently pulls jongin off of him. he tucks himself back into his jeans before dropping onto the floor beside jongin. "i'm sorry, i-i can take care of that for you if you want?" he gestures to the obvious bulge in jongin's pants.

jongin shrugs, "it's fine. don't worry."

"i'm so fucking stupid, i mean, i'm not even that drunk. i've just been so stressed lately and god, i'm so stupid." yixing pulls his legs up to his chest and folds his arms across his knees, burying his face there as it flushes red. "i'm sorry, fuck, i'm so fucking pathetic. i can't even get a hard-on."

"hey," yixing feels jongin's hand on his arm. "it's fine, okay? happens to the best of us. i'm not mad or anything."

yixing lifts his head to look at jongin, who looks unusually concerned for someone yixing picked up at a bar after he bought him drinks and called him beautiful.

"i'm more mad at myself, i guess." yixing says and he's really not sure why he's telling jongin any of this, he thinks jongin won’t even care, will think he’s even more pathetic but, "that i let - shit get to me this much. it's not even about the fact that i can't get it up - okay, well, it kind of is - but it's more about the fact that i'm letting myself get so fucked because of how my life has turned out."

jongin nods like he understands. yixing doubts he does.

"i really fucking hate it here." he drops his head against his arms again. "i hate this city. it's like everything i've ever done wrong is starring me in the face. but i can't fucking go home because that would be even worse and i don't have anywhere else to go so i'm stuck here and it's fucking _frustrating_."

"we could go somewhere." jongin says softly. "you and me. we could, hell, we could go everywhere. we could just get into my car and drive and drive until we don't feel like driving anymore and then wait around until we feel like driving again."

yixing lifts his head and blinks up at jongin for a few beats. then, he laughs. "are you serious?" he asks, "you picked me up at a bar, fully intent on fucking me, what, an hour ago? and now you're talking about going on a road trip with me."

"i'm serious," jongin brows are furrowed, "i'll go with you."

yixing shakes his head and lets out one final huff of breath, hints of laughter evident in it, "alright, sure, jongin. i'll go on a road trip with you." he smiles placatingly at jongin, whose brows remained knit, forehead still creased. .

 

 

  

jongin lets yixing spend the night ("too drunk to get it up, too drunk to get home safe," jongin says and yixing is about to protest that _he isn't too drunk to get it up_ but jongin shoves yixing into his bedroom and takes a spot on the couch before he can.) and yixing leaves his number on the fridge before he leaves the next morning.

here is a list of things yixing expects to happen:

a) jongin will forget about him (the most likely option)

b) jongin will text him once or twice and then forget about him

c) jongin will text him for a couple of weeks, convince yixing to come over so he can fuck him and then forget about him

what he doesn't expect at all is,

d) jongin shows up at his door step with his car packed with food and beer and sleeping bags, telling yixing to pack his bags but to make sure to travel light.

 

 

  

"what the hell are you on about?" yixing sputters, jongin still standing in his door way. he's dressed in tight black pants and a pink, blue and white tank-top. yixing is still wearing the boxer shorts and t-shirt he wore to bed the night before.

"you told me you hated it here," jongin shrugs. "so we're going to go somewhere that's not here."

"i was _joking_ , jesus fuck." yixing replies, "about the road trip thing? i wasn't being serious. i was drunk."

jongin shakes his head, "and i wasn't joking. so get dressed and i'll pack some stuff for you." he pushes past yixing and into yixing’s apartment, leaving yixing standing dumbstruck in the doorway, door wide open and gaping as he watches jongin step into his bedroom.

 

 

 

apparently jongin had been _very_ serious.

once yixing is in the car, still shaking his head at himself for agreeing to this, jongin reaches across to open the glove compartment and pulls out a map. he unfolds it,, smoothing it out against the dashboard. yixing can see it's marked in red pen, with dotted lines in black attaching all the red marks together.

"now, this is just a guide line, it's not necessary we follow it," jongin tells him, chewing on his nail. "i mean, we can drive for as long or as little as we want, we can turn wherever we want, turn around and come back whenever we want to. i mean, it's no big deal."

yixing frowns,, looking at all the red points. it looks like there are so many of them and he wonders how they are going to visit all of them, how long jongin thinks this trip is going to last.

"jongin, i-" yixing starts but jongin starts the car and the sounds of the engine roaring to life drowns him out.

 

 

 

yixing falls asleep after a mere twenty minutes on the road. his eyes drift shut when he can still recognize the buildings speeding by outside his window after he tucking himself into his hoodie, because jongin has the air conditioning turned all the way up, and curling into the seat while someone , a band yixing doesn't recognize, is warbling over the stereo.

jongin wakes him up when he’s stopped, at an hour when the sun is half hidden behind the horizon, turning the sky soft oranges and pinks. "oh wow," yixing says when he sees the time, "i was out for awhile."

"it's fine," jongin assures him. it's then that yixing realizes that jongin is not in his seat, but standing outside the car leaning inside to ruffle through all the stuff piled in the back seat. "i already booked us a room so,"

yixing sits up right in his own seat, where he’s still buckled up safely, and sees they are in a parking lot to a motel, a red sign buzzing VACANCY just above his head.

  

 

 

the room has a single bed.

"i hope you don't mind," jongin suddenly looks nervous and he stands on the opposite side of the bed as yixing.

"i-" he starts to say but shakes his head, "it's fine."

jongin showers first, granted the privilege because yixing can tell that jongin is much more tired than himself from having driven all day. with the hum of the water running in the background, yixing realizes he has no idea where they are. he thinks about rummaging through the hotel drawers, finding a phone book or checking the label inside the bible which will surely have the address, but decides not to. he doesn’t mind not knowing. he thinks he rather likes it, actually.

he also realizes he forgot his phone in his apartment, on the island in his kitchen, and feels no panic about it. it’s a strange feeling, not unpleasant. yixing smiles.

"what are you so happy about?" yixing jumps at the sound of jongin's voice. he had not heard the water shut off or the bathroom door open. jongin stands in the door way now, towel clutched around his waist, hair dripping water down his neck and chest. as yixing's eyes follow a droplet a water from where it beads on his neck and then falls down jongin's chest, he realizes how much he wants to suck dark bruises all over jongin's collarbones, his defined pectorals and his flat stomach.

yixing pushes himself from sitting on the side of the bed closest to the door to the side closest to the bathroom, which just so happens to be the end of it, and grabs jongin's hand, pulling him forward until he is standing right in front of yixing.

"what are you-" jongin starts but stops to draw in a quick breath when yixing drops the towel from around his waist and takes him into his mouth. the question tampers off into a, "christ," as he threads his fingers into the hair on the back of yixing's head.

 

  

 

"which one of us is dean moriarty?" jongin says, faux-thoughtful index finger tapping against his chin. yixing rolls his eyes. "personally, i'm thinking it's me," he continues, "i mean, don't get things crossed, you're great and all it's just - you're much more likely to write some hero worship drivel about me than i am to write hero worship drivel about you, yeah?"

maybe that should insult him, yixing supposes. he doesn’t feel insulted, only mildly annoyed. in an endearing, pretentious kind of way. he thinks about telling jongin he’s never even read on the road. he was supposed, for class, once and at a time that he doesn’t even care about anymore, but he never did.

"i'm not sure, though," jongin knits his eyebrows, "maybe you're more of a marylou? yeah, yeah, that's good, you're marylou." jongin grin is like the cheshire cats. yixing can’t help the small laugh that escapes him.

 

 

 

they stop at a dinner to late for breakfast and end up ordering from the lunch menu for their first meal of the day.

jongin wears a white v-neck. when he leans over the table to sip his water, yixing can see down the collar of it. which means he can see the yellow-ing bruise he left on jongin's chest with two little thin red lines in the middle of it, the small little mark of his sharp teeth and how they had felt against jongin’s skin..

he blushes when jongin catches him starring and proceeds to press his leg against yixing's under the table.

"i don't even know where we are." yixing says quietly, not meeting jongin's eyes.

"do you want to?" jongin asks.

"no."

 

 

 

"why did you talk to me that day on the subway?" yixing asks.

"you looked impossibly sad," jongin replies. "i guess i wanted to find out why."

yixing kisses him, then. and in the unbearable heat of the car the next day, jongin sucks him off in the back seat.

 

 

 

"what did you want to be when you grew up?" jongin asks too early one morning. yixing is half-asleep in the passenger seat and jongin is holding his breakfast with one hand and using the other to steer.

"i don't know."

"what do you mean you don't know? every kid dreams of growing to be something. they play firefighter or policeman or astronaut. i mean, okay, what did you go to school for?"

school. that seems so far gone. what's the date? yixing isn't sure. he knows, logically, that it's still the summer time. he can tell in the way everything is a little more filled up with people, the way the air is a little more muggy because of all the shared air space but more lively because of all the teens and kids let out of school.

"photography," yixing finally replies, trying not to sigh. "i was studying photography."

"so you wanted to be a photograp-"

"i don't know, okay?" he snaps, maybe because he's tired, maybe because he doesn't like thinking about school, maybe a combination of both. "i don't know what i wanted. i guess - i guess i just wanted to be, just happy. i wanted to be happy."

(jongin never asks, "and are you? are you happy?"

so yixing never replies, "i wasn't before,"

yixing never says, "but i think i might be now.")

 

 

 

jongin stops at a beach. there is a a cluster of tall boys in board shorts waxing their surfboards at one end of the shoreline and mothers spread out on folding chairs wearing sunglasses and large hats while their children build sand castles or push each other around in the water on the other.

they spend some time in the waves. yixing complains about the cold while jongin dives and in and out of the water, laughing as he splashes yixing or pulls him underwater by his ankles. they lay on the beach on a shared towel for a long time. yixing feels like no time has passed at all. or that time has come apart at the seams and doesn’t exist for him anymore.

the beach is deserted by the time they decide to roll up there water-logged, sand covered towel. it’s not totally dark outside yet but everything is tinting dark blue as the moon raises itself higher in the sky.

"one more swim?" jongin asks, gesturing to the calm water. there are a few small waves that push up onto shore and disappear quickly. yixing nods and let's jongin take his hand and lead him out into it.

they wade in chest deep before jongin drops under water. yixing watches the smooth surface that ripples until jongin reappears, significantly closer to yixing then when he first went under. yixing, startled, moves to take a step back. jongin grabs him, though, winding an arm tight around yixing’s waist and pulls him closer. they stay close like that for a few moments and then jongin pushes one of his legs between both of yixing's and yixing gasps, barely registering that jongin is leaning forward to kiss him before he feels jongin lips against his own.

yixing sighs into it, wrapping his arms around jongin's neck. it feels like they spend more time kissing slowly in the water than they did laying on the beach. by the time they finally pull apart, yixing is shivering despite how overheated his body feels.

jongin fucks him on the beach, under the cover of darkness, his hand over yixing's mouth to keep him from crying out too loud.

afterwards, yixing feels nothing but sand in his ass crack. he shakes out his hair as he pushes his bag back into the back seat of the car.

"that wasn't worth it." he says.

jongin just hums, coming from behind yixing and turning him around to kiss him hard up against the car.

 

 

 

yixing doesn't understand how he can be so calm, has been so calm in the days (weeks? months?) he's spent on the road with jongin. he doesn't know the date. he doesn't know where they are, how far they are going. he knows he should feel anxious but the only feeling that settles in him is an overwhelming sense of well-being.

he lets jongin park the car on the side of the road at three in the morning and lean over the centre console to push his tongue into yixing's mouth, let's jongin push him into public bathrooms and jerk him off without even hiding inside a stall or locking the door, let's jongin put a hand on his thigh and then move it up to palm yixing through his jeans all while keeping his other hand on the wheel.

yixing knows he would never have done any of this shit before. but he doesn't feel different, or unlike himself. like this has been hiding inside him, buried away by more rational parts of him until now.

he's not sure if being around jongin so much has influenced that.

  

 

 

in somewhere more humid than any other place they've been, the couple behind the counter at the motel misunderstand yixing and jongin's relationship.

when they unlock the door, it opens to reveal two twin beds instead of the single queen they've become used to sharing. jongin looks at yixing, biting his lip, as if he expects yixing to sleep without jongin now that he has the option. yixing is silent as he gently takes jongin's overnight bag from his grasp and drops it along with his onto the bed closest to them.

when he turns back around, jongin is smiling.

 

 

 

the shower has two foggy-glassed sliding doors that make worrying groaning and creeking noises when yixing pins jongin against them. the water pressure is surprising for the money they paid for the room, beating down so hard on there bare skin it turns light red. the temperature is notch below too hot.

yixing runs his tongue along the soft curve of jongin's jaw and tastes the stale water, underlined by all the salt and sweat and dirt they collect during a day of driving. yixing wonders if he tries hard enough if he'll be able to taste the asphalt they drive across, or if he'll be able to taste himself. taste himself leaking out of jongin's pores.

jongin moves his hand from where it's curled around yixing's sharp hip bone to take hold of his cock but yixing reaches down fast, instead, and pins jongin's by wrist to the shower door right beside his own head.

"can i-" yixing starts when he lifts his head to look at jongin's face. his eyes are half-lidded, his bangs plastered to his forehead with water. his chest heaves with each breath he takes and his lips are a deep red. yixing looks at him and thinks that jongin could ask anything of him right now and yixing would do it. that yixing could ask anything of jongin and jongin would do it for him. "can i fuck you?"

yixing swears, he can _see_ the way jongin's pupils widen even more with his words. he doesn't know if jongin replying with actions rather than words is a way of taunting yixing for what he did earlier or if jongin's so far gone that he's relying completely on instincts, but all jongin does in response to yixing's question is turn and press his front against the shower doors.

they end up pressed against each other everywhere, yixing's limbs framing all of jongin's. there arms lifted above there heads and curled around the top of the shower doors, jongin's cheek pressed against the glass and yixing's cheek pressed against jongin's neck.

yixing thinks him and jongin fuck differently. that jongin likes to press in hard and thrusts fast and often, while yixing likes to go slow, rolling his hips to push deeper and longer. but maybe it's just the heat, or the water. or the breathless whimpers and moans he keeps pulling out of jongin.

  

 

 

they decide to pay for another night and spend the day inside. yixing straddles jongin on the bed they shared and they spend a lot of time making out, yixing rolling his hips down whenever he wants jongin to bite on his bottom lip.

jongin makes yixing lick his palm and snakes it into his boxers, taking a firm hold of his cock.

"i never said thank you." yixing says then.

jongin laughs from where the soft skin of his lips is pressed against yixing's cheekbone. "what?"

he flicks his wrist on the upstroke and yixing hisses, head dropping onto jongin's chest and while he fucks into jongin's tight fist. "i never said thank you. for this."

"fucking you?"

"no, idiot," yixing manages. "for - _fuck, that's good_ \- taking me away. for taking me on this stupid fucking road trip. for convincing me even though i thought you were dumb and fucking crazy - _ah_."

yixing comes all over jongin's hands and his shorts but it doesn't matter, because before yixing can even catch his breath, jongin is pushing his boxers down his legs, flipping him over so he's pined under jongin, and sliding down yixing's body, licking and sucking before finally sucking yixing's spent cock into this mouth.

 

 

 

they drive for two days straight to make up for their day of rest, alternating drivers. the point of alternating is so that they can still both get some sleep even if they aren't stopping. it doesn't work out like that, though, and neither of them sleep even when they're the ones in the passenger seat.

"jongin?" yixing says one night, endless road stretching out in front of them. he still doesn't know where they are.

"yeah?"

"can i tell you something?"

"sure."

"i think," yixing starts. he drops his gaze to his hands, wringing in his lap. "i think i might have killed myself. if not for you."

jongin is silent.

"i just wanted you to know that."

(yixing, miles and miles later, realizes that he didn't mean for it too sound as much like _i love you_ as it did.)

 

 

 

just as the second day starts to turn into a third one, as the sun is starting to creep awake, jongin pulls off the road just in front of a field. it's nothing but flat land for miles in front of them and the sun looks huge coming over the horizon.

they sit on the hood of the car and watch the sun slowly make it's way higher and higher in the sky. sometimes jongin turns towards him to kiss him hard for a little while but mostly, he keeps his face towards the sun. yixing only watches jongin.

the sun casts this glow over jongin, turning all the soft lines in his face hard and all the hard lines soft. his eyelashes are shadowed across his cheeks. the air is heavy.

something feels very final about this moment.

yixing thinks he might be ready to go home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> repost from my lj as i'm moving all my old fic over here. don't really write for this fandom anymore.


End file.
